Once More, For The First Time
by CaptainSh
Summary: When Kathryn Janeway's shuttle goes missing in mysterious circumstances, Chakotay thinks that he can swoop in, play the hero and rekindle the fledgling romance that never quite took off on Voyager. Of course, nothing is ever that straight forward, is it? (J/C, Post-Endgame)
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** The usual disclaimers apply.

* * *

CHAPTER ONE

Admiral Paris slipped into the hall five minutes before the end of the lecture. His arrival went unnoticed by everyone apart from the professor at the front of the room. If he was perturbed by the Admiral's arrival, he didn't show it, but he did end the lesson a few minutes before the bell was due to ring.

Most of the students were too buoyed by the early finish to notice the Admiral lurking in the back row - even on a good day, Professor Chakotay's classes ran for a good ten minutes after the bell. The few students who did notice shot the Admiral quizzical looks and a couple of the bolder ones lingered in the aisles hoping to catch a snippet of whatever the two men had to discuss. It was no secret that there was no love lost between the Admiral, who sponsored Starfleet Academy's Command Track Training Programme and Captain Chakotay, who taught its Advanced Tactics course. Only Admiral Janeway had been known to be able to broker peace between the two, but she was currently off world on a diplomatic mission.

Chakotay stood with his back to the room gathering his padds slowly and stuffing them into a worn leather briefcase. It wasn't until the last straggler had left the room that he spoke, his voice low and gruff. "What happened?"

"We've lost her shuttle."

"'Lost' as in you can't find it, or 'lost' as in it was blown to smithereens?"

Admiral Paris tracked his was through the desks and chairs to the front of the room. "It disappeared from sensors. The Homestead hasn't discovered any debris, nor was it able to pick up a further warp trail from the shuttle's last known location."

"She told you this would happen. She told you she didn't trust them." Chakotay fumbled with the clasp of his briefcase.

"Kathryn knew the risks, but like any good officer, she was doing her duty."

Chakotay's eyes met the Admiral's for the first time. "She was following _your_ orders."

"She was following _Starfleet's_ orders."

There was a long pause before Chakotay spoke again. "I assume you'll let us take Voyager out help with the search."

"Need I remind you, Captain, that Voyager and its crew are grounded."

Chakotay made to protest but the Admiral cut him off. "And we already have the Homestead out there, doing a perfectly capable job."

"Capable isn't enough! No one knows her like we do and no crew would be more tireless in their efforts. Come on, Owen, this is Kathryn we're talking about. She loves you like a father and I know you care for her too."

Owen smiled sadly at Chakotay. "That I do, Chakotay. That I do. And that's why we have protocol - to make decisions for us when our judgments are too clouded. You of all people should understand that."

* * *

It was an age old story. Sira, a small planet on the outskirts of Federation space had finally met the requirements for Federation membership. Whilst a large number of the Siran people welcomed this development, a small but powerful faction wanted to preserve Siran independence and their old ways.

"I don't trust their President one bit," Kathryn had confided to Chakotay one evening as they sat on the veranda of her San Francisco apartment watching the sun set over the Golden Gate Bridge. "He makes all the right noises, but he doesn't seem truly excited at the prospect of joining the Federation."

"Then why do you think he's doing it?"

"Ratifying the membership treaty?"

Chakotay nodded.

"It what the people want. And he wants to stay in power." Kathryn sighed. "Thousands of years and the stories never seem to change."

"That's not like you," said Chakotay, reaching over to massage her forearm tenderly. At the quizzical arch of her eyebrow, he elaborated. "You have always been the more idealistic of the two of us; more willing to give people a chance."

Kathryn shrugged. "When I accepted this commission, I was hoping to be able to influence Federation politics and mould the future of Starfleet. Instead, I fly around shaking people's hands and fixing my thumbprint to documents. There's no real challenge, Chakotay. No space anomaly to investigate or innocent civilisation to rescue."

"I think the Siran people will be plenty grateful when they receive their first aid package."

Kathryn scowled at him. "You know what I mean."

"Have you shared your concerns with Owen?"

"About President Keja or about my commission."

"Well, I was thinking about President Keja, but both."

"Yes and no. I told Owen how I felt about Keja, but that's just it - they're just feelings. Even if Keja isn't enthusiastic about Federation membership, he's already committed himself. The negotiators have already ironed out the finer details - there's nothing left to do but hold a signing ceremony, cut some ribbons and drink some tea. As for my commission, I'm sure I'll find a way to make it work. You know some people aren't very happy with me for signing off on Seven's transfer and I don't want to rock any more boats." She gave him a crooked grin. "For the time being, at least."

Two days later she had deposited her dog Molly Mark 2 (or Mark 2 for short) at his flat, given him a friendly farewell peck on the cheek and flown out the door to catch her transport to Utopia Planetia where the Homestead was waiting to take her and the rest of her diplomatic corp to Sira.

That had been a little over a week ago. Now, ensconced in the privacy of his office, Chakotay couldn't - and wouldn't - accept that their last few moments together had been so casual and unceremonious. They had been through tougher scrapes in the Delta Quadrant and it would take far more than a missing shuttle for Chakotay to believe that the worst had happened.

His gaze fell on a framed photograph by his computer console. It had been taken a couple of months ago at Naomi Wildman's seventh birthday party, which coincidentally also marked the six month anniversary of Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant. In it, the birthday girl stood flanked by both parents in front of a Voyager-shaped cake. To her left, Seven of Nine and Tuvok gazed serenely into the camera and next to them Harry Kim beamed proudly at his new girlfriend, Gabriella Lau. Tom and B'Elanna Paris were at the other end of the line up trying to contain a rambunctious Miral Paris, who was leaning precariously out of her mother's arms to reach for the large cake, almost toppling Kathryn Janeway over in the process. Laughingly, Kathryn had gripped at Chakotay's jacket to steady herself and, instinctively, Chakotay's arms had snaked around her waist to hold her in place.

Kathryn had groaned when she spotted it on his desk. "Of all the photos to display..."

"I like it. It's very us," he'd said, too defensively.

She'd given him a wry smile. "You just like it because it shows you rescuing a damsel in distress."

He'd chuckled. "You got me there."

"Make me a copy, won't you?" She'd said, taking him by surprise.

"Oh?"

"This damsel would like a reminder that she needs to be rescued every now and then," she'd said softly, her eyes holding his for just a moment longer than they should have.

He smiled wistfully. It had been like that for a few months now - subtle flirtations, lingering looks and friendly hugs that lasted just a fraction too long. It was just as it had been on Voyager before he had started seeing Seven, only now they didn't have protocol keeping them apart. Nor was his relationship with Seven much of an obstacle. He and Seven had ended things amicably shortly after their return to Earth on the (separate) counsel of their Starfleet mandated therapists. Instead, something much larger loomed in Kathryn and Chakotay's way. Something so obtrusive and yet so eluding that whenever Chakotay tried to probe at it, it blurred at the edges and slipped from his grasp.

Did Kathryn feel it too? He wondered. Did she understand it?

He rubbed his eyes to shake of the haze of introspection that had settled over him. All this speculation would be of little use if he didn't find her and bring her back to him. The edges of a plan began to form as his tacticians mind rattled into gear. If Owen Paris thought that he would sit idly by whilst Kathryn Janeway was in danger, he had better think again.

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"I can't decide whether to call it a 'starttle' or a 'shutship'," said Tom Paris jovially from where he lounged at the helm of his latest brainchild - a starship/shuttle hybrid.

"It's small enough to appear completely innocuous, but powerful enough to do some serious scans and calculations... or damage, whichever way you're so inclined," he added, reciting from the pitch he'd made to a panel of Starfleet Admirals some months earlier, when seeking funding for the project.

"But the vessel belongs to Starfleet, doesn't it?" Seven asked, as she appraised the spacious cockpit. "And I believe that Admiral Paris made it clear to Captain Chakotay that the Homestead and the Homestead alone will conduct Starfleet's search for Admiral Janeway."

"But this ship is still a prototype. It hasn't been consigned to the fleet yet," B'Elanna explained from her perch on the engineering console. In her arms, little Miral Paris gurgled happily, as though in agreement.

"A deep space flight is next on our testing schedule," added Tom. "It won't look suspicious at all - at least, not until its too late. It's your call though Chakotay..."

All eyes turned to look expectantly at the tall, broad-shouldered man who stood half cast in shadows at the back of the room. He hadn't said much when Tom and B'Elanna had given him the guided tour of their new ship, but Tom knew that he was mulling over his options, playing through each possible scenario, trying to determine which would lead to the best outcome. "Its exactly what we need, but I'm taking it alone."

"How very Captain Janeway of you," said Tom with a chuckle. "But that would never work. It would look incredibly suspicious if anyone but me or B'Elanna were seen flying this baby. Besides, given your track record with shuttles, I'd be crazy to leave you with it unsupervised."

"Think carefully about this, Tom," Chakotay warned. "About what this would do to your relationship with Owen. You two are finally getting things back on track. It would be much easier for him to think that I just took off with the ship."

"I don't care what he thinks," said Tom, suddenly serious. "I've spent my whole life trying and failing to please him. Well, this time he's disappointed me. I always thought he had a soft spot for Admiral Janeway. I mean she lived up to his expectations more than any of his children ever did. Not to let us help with the rescue effort just... just doesn't make sense!"

"I disagree," said Seven coolly, earning herself scathing looks from Tom and B'Elanna. "It isn't logical for any of us to attempt this mission. It assumes that the Homestead's crew is incapable of the task and puts additional lives and resources at risk."

"If you don't think that we should go looking for the Admiral, what are you doing here?" B'Elanna growled. As if sensing her mother's rage, Miral stilled and observed the scene with wide eyes.

"On the contrary, if there's one thing I've learnt from Admiral Janeway its that the most logical course of action doesn't always yield the best results. I think that Admiral Janeway would come looking for me if I went missing under similar circumstances and I intend to do the same for her."

Placated, B'Elanna stood up. "Good, that settles it then. I can have this thing ready to go in the hour. I'll have to do some tinkering on the way though - its not quite battle ready yet."

"Wait, what?!" said Tom, aghast. "You're not coming! Who's going to look after Miral?"

"She's coming with us, obviously." At Tom and Chakotay's striken looks, B'Elanna added, "You need me to keep this ship going and Miral needs me to keep herself going. Like it or lump it, boys."

"B'Elanna," said Chakotay cautiously, in a tone of voice he usually reserved for negotiations with deranged dictators. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You stay out of this," she snapped. "She's our child."

"B'Elanna, what if something were to happen to Miral. We'd never forgive ourselves."

"And what if something happened to Kathryn, or - god forbid - to the rest of you because of something I could easily have prevented. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. No, we're better off together. Miral will be fine. We'll take extra precautions."

"That makes no sense, this is exactly why we resigned our commissi-"

Seven cleared her throat. "The Captain and I will begin our preparations and leave you to your domestic disagreement."

But Tom and B'Elanna were too busy bickering to pay her any attention.

* * *

It was B'Elanna who ultimately (and perhaps unsurprisingly) won the squabble, although now, two days into the trip, she and Tom were still arguing over the most effective safety protocols for Miral. As they bickered in the aft section of the newly christened Alpha Flyer, Chakotay and Seven sat idly in the cockpit, watching the stars streak by as the autopilot guided them to their destination. It was the first time that they had truly been alone since discussing the "termination" of their relationship.

"How are things on Vulcan?" Chakotay asked casually, keen that there should be no awkwardness between them.

"I am finding my preparations for the _Kolinahr_ unfulfilling - just as Admiral Janeway predicted."

"Oh?" Chakotay struggled to reign in his surprise. Only two months ago, Seven had been adamant that she leave Starfleet and undertake the sacred Vulcan ritual by which all emotions were purged. Even more surprising was the news that Kathryn had opposed the idea. When Starfleet had fought tooth and nail to keep Seven within their ranks (even going so far as to consider depriving her of her autonomous rights on grounds that she held information vital to the Federation's national security) Kathryn had fought back. Finally and at great risk to her career, Kathryn's first act as a new admiral had been to unilaterally sign off on Seven's resignation.

"My studies seem to be defeating their purpose. I am now more acutely aware of my emotions, but I have come to realise that I..." Seven paused, uncharacteristically searching for the right word, "... that they can be an asset."

When Chakotay didn't say anything, Seven continued. "As part of the preparations for the _Kolinahr_ you are asked to identify the strongest memories that you have attached to certain emotions. I realised that my feelings have often acted as a powerful moral compass. I... have learnt from them. For example, with the Tsunkatse, with Axum and even with you."

"Then it sounds to me like the _Kolinahr_ was anything but a waste. Although I have to confess that I never understood why you wanted to study for it in the first place."

"I used to think that my feelings were a liability. That they impaired by judgement and prevented me from taking the most efficient course of action. Not to mention that Admiral Janeway was always encouraging me to understand and embrace my emotions and I wanted to prove her wrong."

Chakotay chuckled. "Like a petulant teenager."

"Quite. Counsellor Troi observed that I had come to treat the Admiral as a parental figure. You too for that matter."

Chakotay blanched. Deanna Troi had said something similar to him. She'd noted that Chakotay's emotional past was a complex one, tinged with loss, betrayal and many fleeting but complicated relationships. It was unsurprising to her that he had therefore turned to Seven, who delineated and dealt with her feelings in a very straightforward and transparent way. The emotional simplicity that he was looking for was exactly what she didn't need at this point of her development, when she should be learning about the convoluted messiness that feelings can bring.

"It occurs to me," Seven was saying, "That Admiral Janeway was often far more insightful that I gave her credit for. You know, she counselled me against my relationship with you."

Chakotay's throat suddenly felt dry. "She did?"

"Yes. I asked for her opinion and she said that she didn't think I had sufficient emotional maturity to be with a man like you."

"What else did she say?" he asked, with feigned nonchalance.

"She said that you required " _delicate unravelling_ ". I was unsure what she meant, but she would not elaborate. She said that she had too much " _skin in the game"_ to comment further _."_

"Really?" said Chakotay, feeling partly bemused and party violated at having been discussed so intimately without his knowledge.

Seven continued, unaware of his discomfort. "I assume she meant that she knew us both too well and did not want to interfere further in our relationship, although I would argue that what little she did say was interfering en-"

Before Seven could finish, her console beeped and she leaned forward to study the readout. "We are within sensor range of the Homestead. Engaging cloaking device..." A pause and then, "Cloak engaged."

"It occurs to me, Captain," said Seven, as Chakotay summoned Tom and B'Elanna to the cockpit. "We have not discussed how best to determine the Admiral's last known location."

"Haven't we told you, Seven?" He asked, as he pointed up to the Homestead, which was looming ever larger above their heads in the view screen. "We have friends in high places."

* * *

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Lieutenant Harry Kim was tired and frustrated. He had been studying the sector of space around Admiral Janeway's last known location for hours now to no avail. For all intents and purposes, it seemed that the Admiral's shuttle had just vanished into thin air.

He was about to replicate his third coffee of the evening when he noticed a blinking red light on the periphery of his console notifying him of an error in the waste processing systems. As much as he wanted to ignore it and focus on tracking down the Admiral, he also wanted to impress Captain Lundy, his new commanding officer. That meant ensuring that the response times in his weekly stats were low. Besides, he rationalised, it seemed like a routine error that wouldn't take long to fix and a break from searching for the Admiral might actually do him some good.

He studied the read out before him. _Odd_ , he thought, _there isn't anything wrong with the waste systems_. He ran the code underlying the error message, hoping it might point him in the right direction and found the problem instantly - the code had corrupted. A simple reset should fix it. His finger hovered over the reset button. Something felt off. He was sure he had seen the corrupt code before. Where had that been? He stared at the screen for a good few minutes before it hit him. It was the same code that Seska had used to communicate with Crewman Jonas after she had left Voyager. But Seska and Jonas were dead, weren't they? In his line of work, you could never be too sure. It definitely seemed like too much of a coincidence for this code to have cropped up now, when Admiral Janeway's was missing. Curiosity got the better of him and against his better judgement, Harry tapped into the communication.

Immediately, his screen flickered to life to display an all too familiar face. "Harry, good man! We knew you'd figure it out!" Said Tom, beaming at him proudly. Behind Tom, Harry could make out B'Elanna's smiling face. Chakotay and Seven stood next to her looking more serious but not displeased to see him. Harry couldn't help himself, he grinned widely at them.

"What's all this?" He whispered, even though he was alone in his quarters. Tom filled in him on everything that had happened and outlined their request - they wanted all the data that the Homestead had on Admiral Janeway's last known whereabouts.

Harry groaned, so much for making a good impression with Captain Lundy. "I could get into _soooo_ much trouble for this," he moaned, but he was already uploading the data for transmission.

"You'll let me know if you find anything?" He asked, feeling for a moment that he was on the wrong side of this adventure and wanting more than anything to be with his friends.

Chakotay was non-committal. "We'll be in touch when we can. Chakotay out."

Racing his fingers over the console, Harry deleted all traces of the communication from the ships logs. Unless they probed further, to anyone else, it would seem like a routine end-of-day data purge. He may not be on board the Alpha Flyer, but Harry would do whatever he could to help his friends find and retrieve the Admiral. In that moment he knew that although he had a new commanding officer and served on board a new ship, his loyalty would lie first and foremost with Voyager and her former crew.

* * *

Chakotay had been staring at the data on his screen for so long that it had started to blur and swim before his eyes. He sighed and forced himself to concentrate. The longer Kathryn remained missing, the lower their chances of finding her (and, in particular, their chances of finding her alive).

"I just don't understand it," B'Elanna growled from across the room. In frustration, she threw the Padd she had been reading on the table in front of her.

From her high chair, Miral chucked her rattle on the floor in imitation of her mother. She giggled when it landed with a loud crash. Absentmindedly, B'Elanna picked the rattle up and handed it back to her daughter. With a squeal of delight, Miral flung it to the floor again.

"According to these logs, one second the Admiral's shuttle was there and then the next second it was just gone. It doesn't make sense! There are no signs of spacial anomalies, temporal rifts, unusual warp particles or... anything," B'Elanna said as she bent to pick the rattle up once more.

"As illogical as it may be," Seven contributed calmly from her own desk in the ship's small communal area, "I must concur with your analysis."

Chakotay sighed. "We've already lost four days. We can't lose any more! What are we missing here? Did you try running a magneton scan?"

"Yes."

"What about-"

"I've tried it all, Chakotay!" B'Elanna snapped. "Anything you can think of, I've tried." She sagged in her seat and rubbed her hands over her face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. It's just... I don't know what else to try."

"How about a different lead?"

All eyes swivelled to stare at Tom Paris.

"What do you mean?" B'Elanna asked gruffly.

"While the three of you have been focusing on the shuttle, I asked myself what else we had to go on. You told us, Chakotay, that the Admiral was suspicious of the Siran president - a guy called Keja."

"That's right," said Chakotay, still looking somewhat perplexed.

"So I did a little digging through the Siran press to see what I could find out about him. All the big publications - the state run media - herald him as a peace loving diplomat. Its all completely innocuous fluff. But if you dig a little deeper, some of the smaller publications are less than kind about him. There are all sorts of allegations: corruption, fraud and then there's this..." Tom rotated his computer so that it faced the rest of the room. He had called up a blurry picture of two men entering a bunker. The picture appeared to have been taken from behind some bushes.

One of the men was visible only in profile, he was stout with rounded shoulders and the ridges that ringed his eye and ran down the side of his face identified him as Siran. There was no doubt that this was Keja as he wore an elaborate headdress that bore the insignia of the President's office. The other man was more clearly visible for he was looking back, almost directly at the camera, as though to make sure they weren't being followed. He was tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders. The characteristic Siran ridges formed only an arch over one of his eyes.

"Just twenty four hours before the Admiral disappeared, President Keja was pictured meeting with Chip Tejha, leader of the rebel group that oppose the Federation treaty."

"The picture isn't great, but he looks almost human," said Chakotay, moving in for a closer look.

"Half-human. Apparently his mother was a scientist from Earth and his father was a Siran diplomat. I don't know if you remember, but an explosive device was discovered under the Siran parliament before the government was due to meet to consider the Federation treaty last week. A number of newspaper outlets think that the bomb was planted by Tehja and his men. He's also led all sorts of other protests throughout the planet."

"The Admiral was right," said B'Elanna, softly. "It seems like Keja is somehow involved. The Homestead's logs show that she was on her way to meet with him when she disappeared. He could have had her flight plan. He could have collaborated with this Tehja guy and arranged for Kathryn to... disappear."

"That seems a fair assumption," observed Seven.

"Its the only thing we have to go on," agreed Tom. "What do you say, Chakotay? Shall we pay the Siran president a little visit?"

Chakotay nodded. "Let's do it."

* * *

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Everything hurt. She was sure that there were at least half a dozen knives embedded in her body. Either that, or she was being roasted over an open fire. Wasn't that smoke she could smell?

She cracked her eyes open and was blinded by a sliver of bright light. She tried to hold up a hand to block it out, but the attempt at movement sent a jolt of pain coursing through her body and she let out an involuntary groan.

Almost instantly, she heard someone scramble to her side. "Don't move," a voice said. It was soft and deep and comforting.

"Chak - tay?" She managed to croak.

"You've had a bit of an accident, but we're looking after you. Don't worry, everything will be alright."

She felt something being pressed into her upper arm. Whatever it was made it more difficult for her to focus on her already hazy thoughts. _But its alright_ , she thought as she succumbed to sleep. _Its all going to be all right. Chakotay's here._

* * *

"Chakotay here." Chakotay tapped his combadge from his hiding place in the shrubs just below President Keja's kitchen window. Seven was crouched next to him, tinkering away at a panel of exposed circuitry. The glow of the wires cast her face in green light and reflected eerily off her ocular implant. Tom stood in the shadows at the far end of the wall, his phaser trained on the guards' hut just around the corner, but Chakotay didn't think the guards would present any trouble tonight. He'd spotted them earlier, when scaling the towering metal fence that walled off the president's residence from the rest of Sira's capital city - four burly Siran men crammed into a small outpost, listening intently to some kind of sports broadcast. In the stillness of the night, Chakotay could hear the commentator's voice ringing out loudly across the president's vast compound.

"I managed to access Keja's security files," B'Elanna's tinny voice sounded softly from his combadge. She had remained on board the Alpha Flyer to look after Miral. "If the system goes down for longer than thirty seconds an alert gets sent, not just to his guards, but to the Siran military. Tell Seven to install a subspace transponder before she takes the system offline. That should give me control once you guys are in."

Chakotay glanced over his shoulder. "Seven, you got that?"

"Affirmative."

"Remember," said B'Elanna, "You'll only have-"

"Thirty seconds," repeated Chakotay. "Got it. I'll leave the comm line open so you'll know when we're in."

"Oh, I'll know," said B'Elanna, staring at three blue dots on a digital map in front of her. They showed the away team's life signs and position in the compound. Next to her, oblivious to the severity of the situation, Miral was fast asleep in her bassinet. Fleetingly, B'Elanna considered taking a photo for the baby book: _Miral's first away mission_. She chuckled and then shook her head as if to chase the perverse thought away. _Focus, 'Lanna_ , she told herself.

"Almost there," she heard Seven say over the open comm line. Then footsteps and she saw Tom's dot moving to join Chakotay and Seven's by the window. "Now!"

There was the sound of wood sliding against wood - presumably the window being opened; followed by muffled scrambling - the away team trying to climb through as quickly as possible; then a loud slam. "We're in."

B'Elanna's fingers were already flying across the console. She brought Keja's security system back online with nanoseconds to spare.

The away team were crouched behind one of the many alien contraptions in the kitchen. In his haste, Tom had slammed the window shut a little louder than he'd intended. They listened closely for several long seconds to see if the noise had roused the president or his family, but all remained calm.

To reduce the chance of discovery, they'd chosen an entry point far away from the sleeping quarters, but this meant that they would have to pick their way silently across the large house to the east wing, where their scans had shown them that the President was working late in his study. Having memorised the floor plan, Seven led the way. The beacon on her wrist, flicked to the dimmest setting, providing the barest of illumination.

Chakotay followed stealthily behind Seven. His heart thudded loudly, seemingly ready to burst out of his chest, and adrenaline coursed through his body, heightening his senses. He'd learnt a long time ago that there was no such thing as a routine away mission. Each one brimmed with danger and the possibility of death. Still, he'd been doing this for so long now that he greeted the nervous energy like an old friend. His body thrummed with single-minded purpose: _Find Kathryn. Find Kathryn._

So when they slipped silently into the study and found Keja standing with his back to the door, pouring himself a drink at a low cabinet, Chakotay wasted no time in marching over and digging his phaser into the small of the President's back.

"Make a sound and I'll shoot," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. Behind him, he heard Tom and Seven taking up strategic positions around the room, just as they'd planned.

Wrenching a tumbler from Keja's hand and setting it down on the cabinet, Chakotay nudged the President to the centre of the room with his phaser. Tom watched silently from where he stood sentry by the window. It was difficult to reconcile this version of Chakotay - the gruff Maquis leader - with the Starfleet Captain who gave his students hearty claps on the back and played with Miral in the dirt.

"I'm only going to ask you once - where's Kathryn Janeway?"

"I... I don't know," Keja stammered, breathing heavily.

"Don't lie to me!" Chakotay pressed his phaser deeper into the Siran president's back. "We know you met with Chip Tehja shortly before the Admiral disappeared. Where is she?"

"I only suspect that Tehja had something to do with this, but I don't know any more than that. I - I promise you!" The words tumbled out of Keja's mouth, seemingly unbridled. "I've been trying to find her. The Federation treaty rests on it!"

Chakotay looked unconvinced. He jerked his head, motioning Tom towards a laptop-like contraption on Keja's desk. "Check his computer."

Tom hurried over and began striking at keys on the console. "It needs a password," he said, quickly familiarising himself with the alien technology. So many planets, so many cultures, but some things remained the same.

"Its fingerprint activated," Keja volunteered. Later, Chakotay would realise that the President had offered this information far too quickly.

"Fine," said Chakotay, nudging Keja towards the desk, all the while maintaining a vice-like grip on the Siran man. Keja leaned heavily on the table as he pressed his thumb to the screen. Immediately, the desktop flickered to life. Chakotay dragged Keja away and back towards the centre of the room.

"He isn't lying," said Tom in disbelief, as he scrolled through the data in front of him. "He's been trying to find the Admiral. In fact, he's got whole teams conducting the search."

"I told you," said Keja, now seeming a little more sure of himself.

Chakotay was confused. Had they really come all this way for nothing? "Then why'd you meet with Tehja?" He asked, shaking the President violently.

"Wait, I found something." Tom pounded at keys on the laptop. "He's been-"

"Guys..." B'Elanna's worried voice filled the room. "I don't know how it happened, but someone's alerted the Siran military. The guards are already coming in."

"Beam us out!" Chakotay roared, shoving Keja away from him. Tom slammed the laptop shut, tucked it under his arm and ran to join the others in the centre of the room where they were already shimmering out of view.

"Something's interfering with the beam out," B'Elanna called out, largely out of habit, since the away team were mid-transport and unable to hear her. "Someone else has a lock on you! I'm recalibrating the confinement beam!"

Three figures shimmered in and out of view on the small transporter pad behind her. B'Elanna's shouts had woken Miral who was crying loudly in her bassinet. Ignoring her daughter, B'Elanna battled for control of the beam out. She tried everything in her arsenal, but ultimately the "starttle's" systems were no match for her mysterious adversary's and the away team shimmered out of view for the last time. As they did, the laptop that Tom had been holding crashed to the ship's floor.

B'Elanna hit the console in frustration, causing Miral to cry even louder. How on earth was she going to mount _two_ rescue missions on her own?!

* * *

To be continued...

Ps: Thanks for sticking with me and for all your comments so far - I can't tell you how motivating it is to read them!


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

She awoke in a small alcove set off to one side of a much larger cavern. There was a jagged cut in the rock above her head from which she could see a cluster of stars twinkling brightly in the night sky. Everything ached, but the pain was more manageable than she remembered and her mind less groggy. She glanced down and saw that her arms were tightly bound in swathes of long, thin leaves. An orangey-pink paste oozed out from between the gaps in her makeshift bandages.

Kathryn glanced about the cave. The warm light of a fire cast long, dancing shadows about the place, making it difficult to make out anything but the most obvious of features - a large metal contraption suspended above the fireplace, a hulking chunk of machinery along a wall, and a figure resting against the mouth of the cave whittling a shape into a small block of wood. He was stocky, with dark hair and a square jaw. Kathryn thought she could make out an indistinct pattern just above his left eye.

"Chakotay?" She called, her voice barely rising above the soft cackle of the fire.

He was by her side at once. "I'm sorry. I don't know what - or who - that is." His eyes were bright and kind, but they weren't Chakotay's. She felt a sharp pang that seemed to hurt worse than any of her injuries.

"How are you feeling?" The stranger asked, concern clearly etched on his face.

She tried to speak, but words failed her.

"Hold on," he said, holding up his hand to indicate that she should stay in place. _As if I'm going anywhere_ , she scoffed to herself.

He hurried over to the fire and the metal sphere that hung just above it. A narrow chute led from the top of the sphere to a container that sat on a low table nearby. He twisted a tap at the bottom of the container and clear liquid began to fill the glass beneath it.

Back at her side, he helped her sit up, propping a couple of grey, fraying pillows behind her back. "Drink up," he said, raising the glass to her lips. She drank deeply and greedily, barely registering the rivulets of water that ran down the side of her face. Only when she was truly satisfied did she look up at him again.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice stronger now.

"You were in a shuttle accident."

"A shuttle accident..." she echoed, wracking her brain for some recollection of the event.

"Do you remember anything about it?"

"There was... some kind of displacement beam..." she said, her memories unfolding slowly. "It came at us out of nowhere. We couldn't disperse it or outrun it. Ensign Jorell..." Her eyes widened and she looked around frantically. "Ensign Jorell - my pilot - where is he?!"

The stranger hung his head, a raft of emotions flickering across his face.

"Oh," she said, suddenly feeling sick.

It was a long while before either of them spoke. "Well, thank you for all your help," Kathryn said, at last. Now that she was sitting up, she felt considerably better. She may not have much use of her hands, but she was sure that she would be able to walk. "I must get back to my ship."

The man chuckled. "You won't be going anywhere. You sustained severe burns to at least forty per cent of your body. Your arms, chest and neck are the worst affected, but you're pretty much banged up all over."

She licked her lips. "Well, I need to contact my ship. My people will be looking for me." She searched her body for her combadge, but instead of her Starfleet uniform, she was wearing a baggy shirt over a pair of slacks. "Where's my 'badge?"

The man looked confused.

"A shiny metal pin. It would have been fixed to the top left of my uniform."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember a badge. Your clothes were pretty badly burned when we pulled you out of the wreckage."

Kathryn rested her head against the wall and sighed. "Do you have a communications system that I could use?"

The man looked almost guilty. "I'm sorry, no." He nodded towards the large machine that ran along the cave wall. "Our computer was damaged pretty badly a couple of days ago. My head engineer designed the system and knew it best, but he's left us. We can't seem to get it back up and running without him."

"Us?" Kathryn looked around the otherwise empty cavern. "Who exactly are you and where are we?"

The man smiled, "I'm-"

"Chip! You'd better come quick!" A voice rang out from just outside the cave before its owner, a Siran man in his early twenties, came running into view. "Makja's back from the city. He brought news about..." His voice petered off when he saw Kathryn studying him intently.

"Hold that thought," Chip said to her with a half-smile. "I'll be right back."

Kathryn scowled as both men left the cave, chatting softly. _Chip_ , she thought to herself, _why was that name so familiar?_

* * *

In all his adult life, Chakotay had never been made to feel more like a child than he did now.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Owen Paris demanded as his hologram paced the conference room on board the USS Homestead. Still unaccustomed to the technological developments that had occurred during his time in the Delta Quadrant, it had taken Chakotay a while to realise that the Admiral was being projected in from a holo-suite at Starfleet HQ.

After requesting a beam out, Chakotay and his away team had spent a disorienting few minutes in transport suspension before materialising on board the Homestead. They'd learnt that the Homestead was monitoring all official Siran communications since Captain Adrian Lundy and his crew had their own suspicions about the Siran government's involvement in Admiral Janeway and Ensign Jorell's disappearance. The Homestead had simply chosen to take a less direct approach with its investigations. For reasons unknown to Chakotay, when Lundy had realised what Chakotay and his team were up to, he'd removed them from the situation at once.

The Admiral didn't wait for a response. "This is exactly why I didn't want Voyager involved. All of you - especially you, Chakotay - are too emotionally attached to one another and to Kathryn Janeway. You're not thinking straight. You've spent so long playing things by the skin of your teeth, that you've forgotten how to follow protocol. You're reckless, irresponsible and negligent. If not for Captain Lundy and his crew, you would have caused a major diplomatic incident.

Peace, in this region of space, is hanging by a precarious thread. Not only are a group of Siran rebels causing all sorts of trouble, but a violent species - the Dakaans - have recently come to power in the neighbouring system. They have a lot of interest in Sira, since the planet is rich in Voran ore. I don't suppose any of you remember why the ore is so valuable?"

"It can be used to create energy-based weapons," said Seven coolly, seemingly unfazed by the severity of the situation. "Varon disrupters can penetrate some of the most durable metals. When fired at organic beings, they tear the body apart slowly and painfully from the inside out. They were deemed so dangerous that the Federation outlawed the use of Varon-based weapons in the 23rd Century."

Owen nodded. "Sira is the last stalwart between Dakaan territory and Federation space. At this stage, we can't afford to do anything to offend the Sirans. We _need_ them to join the Federation, we _need_ to be able to protect the Sirans, and we _need_ to control the use of Varon ore. Your actions have done nothing to help matters. You risked it all for nothing! You didn't even get any information on Kathryn's whereabouts."

Tom started to speak, but then seemed to think better of it. _So much for standing up to your father_ , Chakotay thought bitterly. But truth be told, Chakotay had to admit that Admiral Paris was right. He hadn't stopped to consider the consequences. He hadn't cared about anything but the safe retrieval of Kathryn Janeway. It pained him to admit that a part of him still didn't care about the Sirans. He _had_ to see Kathryn again. He _had_ to tell her how he felt. He _had_ to hear her admit she felt the same way. Couldn't the needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many just this once?

"Your logic is flawed," said Seven, breaking Chakotay our of his reverie. "Every day that we fail to find Admiral Janeway is another day that you fail to sign the Siran-Federation Treaty. The Federation cannot, in good faith, sign the treaty when it appears that the Siran government might have kidnapped one of its top officials. The kidnapping itself suggests that current the Siran government does not _want_ to join the Federation. Press reports indicate that the Siran people support the treaty. So the quicker Starfleet identifies and roots out the bad actors, the quicker the treaty is signed. Action, in this case, is better than inaction."

Chakotay stifled the urge to give Seven an approving look. Tuvok would undoubtedly be proud. But it was impossible to discern if her words had any meaningful impact on Owen Paris. The Admiral had simply regarded her coolly before turning to Captain Lundy and the two security officers who stood by the conference room doors. "Confine all three of them to quarters."

Chakotay made to protest, but Admiral Paris cut him off. "Watch it," the older man warned. "I could change my mind and have you sent to the brig instead." Then he tapped his combadge and flickered out of view.

* * *

To be continued…

 **Note:** Just a quick line to say that I won't be able to update this story as frequently as I have been doing due to work craziness (which is scheduled to occupy most of my time for the next couple of weeks). Although I do have the next few chapters ready to go, I'll be posting once or twice a week to give me a chance to catch up and then resume regular posting thereafter. I hope you'll stick with me. Thank you!


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